


The Living

by Lightspeed



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Fingering, Fluff, Foot Massage, Gore, M/M, Movie Night, Movie Reference, Multi, Night of the Living Dead, Oral Sex, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:31:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Heavy awakes from a nap to find Medic and Scout missing, he searches the base only to find them having a horror movie night in a remote corner of the base.  They treat him to their undivided attention.<br/>(Gore and violence described as part of the movie they are watching, not happening to the characters themselves.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Living

**Author's Note:**

  * For [your_bro_joe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_bro_joe/gifts).



> Spoilers for Night of the Living Dead, but I'm pretty sure the time limit's passed for a movie that came out in '68. This is a fic I wrote for Joe's birthday, because he's awesome, and has championed this OT3 of his so valiantly. Plus, it is a really cute ship.

The Living

 

Heavy hadn't seen his partners for a while. Having taken a nap after the day's combat, he awoke to find himself alone, and both Medic and Scout nowhere to be found. It was a fact that concerned him greatly. Stalking about the base, the great Russian bear found himself poking around the rec room, the dining hall, and even the showers, his lips pursed in perplexity. Large boots tromped down the concrete floors of the RED base, dull thumps resounding low through the hallways.

Scout was no stranger to getting himself into trouble, but he was also the type to move around so much that he would be difficult to find unless he wanted to be. When he was missing, it was usually because he was off bothering someone or screwing around outside the base. Medic, however, was a different story. He tended to stay within arm's reach of Heavy, or at least in one of several locations. A search of his infirmary, the Engineer's workshop, and the upper balcony of the base yielded no results save for the big Russian getting swarmed by the doctor's doves, looking for their evening meal. He was still picking feathers off of his shirt and out of the stubble on his balding head.

Chilly November winds bled in through the corners of every window he passed. The old wood-and-stone structure RED had outfitted as a base and barracks seemed to be custom-made for discomfort. Windows and doors, poorly insulated, hemorrhaged cold air, and Heavy wondered if he was actually seeing his breath or whether it was simply a flight of fancy. He was used to the cold, but that did not mean it was his preference. Most of the man's uniform shirts did not cover his sizable arms, and without hair atop his head, his scalp always chilled quickly. He idly debated wandering back to the quarters that he, Medic, and Scout shared, to grab a hat and perhaps a sweater.

A throaty laugh echoed down the hallway, cut off by a soft moan. It was a voice Heavy knew all too well, youthful and exuberant. Scout was somewhere nearby, and he was having a good time. Continuing down the hall, he strained to hear. More soft moans echoed, backed up by a steady clicking noise. It reminded Heavy of the children he'd seen in Teufort, putting baseball cards in the spokes of their bicycles to make a pattering sound. A moment passed before he realized it was the rattle of a film projector.

The briefing room. Of course.

Heavy passed three doors and hung a left, turning a corner to find a large set of double doors before him. The sounds were coming from behind the door. He could hear music, and groaning, and screaming. Over it all, Scout was chattering about something between blissful moans. The big Russian's eyebrow shot up. He opened the door a crack, peeking in slowly.

The room was dark, save for the light of the projector showing a movie on the big pull-down screen the team used for briefings. Tables and chairs were pushed aside, and a large couch had been moved in from somewhere else on the base. Seated on the couch were Scout and Medic. The doctor had his legs crossed ankle-to-knee, his eyes glued to the screen with interest. In his lap lay Scout's feet, the runner stretched out along the couch, leaning on the far arm. He watched the screen as well, arms behind his head. Medic's hands were busily at work rubbing Scout's left foot with practiced efficiency, his gaze never leaving the movie as his thumbs pressed into arch and pinched heel. The runner was nearly mewling in appreciation of the effort, squirming about, his calloused feet practically melting under the doctor's touch.

On the screen, a man leaned from a window to throw molotov cocktails from the second story of a farm house. Slow moving people covered in wounds cowered away from the flames as they tried to march stiffly towards the house and a truck sitting outside. A handsome black man and a young white man were trying to secure the truck, fending off the ghoulish assailants with a lone shotgun. A discordant orchestra blared tersely along to the action from the speakers near the screen.

“What is this you are watching?”

Medic and Scout turned to see Heavy standing in the doorway, an amused smirk on his lips. So his lovers were spending some quality bonding time together. This was good, though he was sad to be left out. Both men smiled in welcome and beckoned him to enter. The Russian closed the door behind him and walked up behind the couch, careful not to stand in the way of the projector.

“A buddy 'a mine back home name 'a Aaron works at a drive-in, and he managed to sneak out a reel of this new movie that just came out last month,” Scout explained, taking a moment to grunt in a mixture of pleasure and pain as Medic pinched the ball of his foot below his big toe. “It's called Night of the Living Dead. Pretty sweet if ya ask me. I mean, it's scary, yeah, but considering what we do for a living?”

Heavy chuckled, “I see. So you decide to have movie night without me?”

“You were so tired after today, Schatz, that we did not want to wake you. Plus, I did not think these sorts of movies were relevant to your interests,” Medic explained, releasing Scout's foot and moving to the middle of the couch, making room for the big Russian to sit.

“Is not my favourite kind of cinema, but I like to watch anything with the both of you.” Accepting the invitation, Heavy took the long way around the couch, rounding Scout's end to stop and plant a kiss on his temple. Taking his seat next to Medic, he pulled the German into his embrace like he were a rag doll. “Did not think you liked horror movies, Doktor.”

Medic smiled as he settled in against Heavy, tapping Scout on the knee to indicate he was ready once again. The runner complied by shifting his position and putting his feet back in the doctor's lap, smiling languidly as Medic resumed his massage. “It is not really, but I am quite fascinated by this film. Its effects are so accurate!”

The doctor did not need to explain himself further. Onscreen, the ghouls were tearing at the corpse of the white man, now laying in the truck, burned-out from a gasoline fire. They pulled parts from the wreckage of his body, ripping out organs and flesh, and feasted ravenously. Gore was splayed along the grass outside the truck as one of the ghouls chomped into a length of intestine. Heavy felt his stomach churn just watching it.

“Look at that!” Medic exclaimed, excited more than made either Heavy or Scout comfortable. “The viscera is so lifelike! I wonder how they achieved it without actually butchering the poor boy.”

“Well, accordin' to Aaron, any blood is just food-coloured corn syrup. And for the guts, they went to the local butcher and got parts there. Like, pig guts and stuff, and chewed on 'em for the cameras.” Scout shifted a bit, similarly grossed out.

“They managed to get their actors to do this?” Heavy asked, incredulous.

“Heh, yeah. This was filmed in Pennsylvania. Frickin' Dutchies'll eat anything. Hell, they invented scrapple.” Scout stuck out his tongue to illustrate his disgust.

The two older men chuckled at their partner's commentary, not bothering to inquire as to what in the world scrapple was. Screaming rang out from the speakers, turning their attention to the film once again.

Minutes passed in near-silence as the three men sat engrossed in the perils of those unfortunate people stuck defending an old farm house against the horrors of the undead, Scout's quiet groans the only sound issuing forth from the group on the couch. Medic smiled as he knuckled into Scout's arch, making the runner tense up and suck in a breath through his teeth. It hurt a little, but it felt so good, and he could feel his feet buzzing with sensation from all of the attention they'd been receiving. The doctor held up the foot to his face and laid a gentle kiss on the tips of his toes.

Scout couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the sweet gesture and shifted position after Medic finally released him. Crawling up into the doctor's lap, Scout nuzzled at Medic's neck, planting soft kisses along the underside of his jaw. When the older man wrapped his arms around his young lover, Scout took it upon himself to guide Medic's hand down his belly to the erection pressing against his pants. He grinned against the doctor's skin.

Medic made a small, appreciative sound, tilting his head back to look up at Heavy. The big Russian was watching them with interest and a smirk as Scout essentially pawed at himself using Medic's hand. “Mmm, you know, we have ignored our Heavy far too much this evening.“ He looked back down to Scout, forcing the younger man to extricate himself from the doctor's neck. “What do you think?”

The runner smiled and hopped up off of the couch, letting Medic move further to one side, coaxing Heavy to scoot to the center. Taking his place at Heavy's right, Scout began giving the big Russian the same treatment he'd been giving Medic, kissing and nipping at his neck. Soft lips and gentle bites assaulted the big man's warm flesh, and he found himself caring far less about the cold. Scout straddled Heavy's arm and rubbed himself against the older man's bicep, eager for any contact at all.

On his left, Medic set his spectacles on an end table and set about the work of snuggling up against his lover's belly. He lifted the Russian's t-shirt, exposing his furry tummy to the chilled air. Rubbing his face against his partner's fuzz, the doctor's hand found its way between Heavy's legs, caressing his inner thigh. He sighed, his other hand sliding under that t-shirt to pet the big man's broad, hairy chest.

Heavy closed his eyes, sighs of contentment rumbling forth. His large hands found their way to his lovers, one cupping Scout's bottom, the other rubbing circles on Medic's lower back. The movie long forgotten, Heavy turned to capture his younger partner's lips in a kiss, sucking on his lower lip, moving in to tangle their tongues, tasting soda and popcorn in the runner's mouth. They'd had popcorn? Without him? Oh, they would be paying in full later tonight. But for now, Heavy slid his hand down the back of Scout's trousers, cupping the soft cheeks of his bottom roughly, only encouraging the younger man to drive deeper and harder into their kiss, his arms wrapped around the Russian's neck, one hand on the back of his head.

Heavy's other hand, once rubbing lovingly at Medic's back, now found its way down his pants as well, gripping at his backside, middle finger sliding playfully along his crack. The doctor's breath quickened, spurring him to open his lover's fly, fiddling frantically with his button and zipper. Finally, he managed to get his hand inside Heavy's pants and tugged him free of his underwear, the Russian's growing erection exposed to the chilly air. He could feel the heat pouring off of it, leeching out into the cold November evening, into the wide open briefing room. He nuzzled at the head with the tip of his nose, enjoying the softness of Heavy's oh-so-sensitive flesh.

The big Russian grunted lightly at the contact, his voice pouring down Scout's throat. Withdrawing his hand from Scout's trousers, he brought it over to Medic's face, holding it beside his aching manhood. Pulling away from the youngest for a moment, he commanded, “Lick,” before being captured once again. Medic quirked an eyebrow, but obeyed, forgoing Heavy's cock to lap at the tip of his middle finger. He slid his lips around the digit, slathering it in saliva, running his tongue along the pads of it and bobbing softly. His large lover groaned softly at the sensation, pulling his hand away.

Scout soon found the hand returning to his pants and backside, and that wet finger pressing slowly between his cheeks. His eyebrows shot up, a smirk tugging at his lips even as Heavy was doing the same. They had no lubricant handy, but when Heavy's skilled fingers began rubbing circles at his entrance, Scout almost shut down. He arched his back, presenting his backside to the Russian's hand, moaning softly into his lover's mouth.

Medic grinned at Scout's reaction, and went back to his task at hand. Slowly, he circled the head of Heavy's cock with his tongue, relishing the quickened breaths the big man took as he tried to gasp for air around their younger lover's lips. Using just the tip of his tongue, he traced the edge of his glans, listening for hitches and gasps in the larger man's breath and lingering in those spots, lapping at his warm, soft flesh, feeling Heavy's thighs quiver.

The big man's head rolled back despite Scout's grip, his lips parted in a low, rumbling groan as Medic tortured him near the edge of over-stimulation. The doctor was skilled at such things. His anatomical knowledge, while certainly an advantage, was not nearly the source of his power. Far more potent was his breadth of experience with Heavy's wonderful body. He knew where all of the nerves lay, what areas were likely to be erogenous zones on most people, but his hands-on practice with his lovers provided a far greater expertise. The tip of his tongue followed the line of the Russian's frenulum over and over, up and down, sending tremors through Heavy's body. The fingers rubbing gently at Scout's anus twitched, his hand on Medic's backside trying to squeeze but instead shook ineffectually. That skilled tongue laved across the top of his head a few times before diving beneath the ridge of his glans, running lines of liquid fire along the underside. The big man panted; low, thick moans rolling over his teeth and spilling down his lips. He was powerless under Medic's touch, his assault. All he could do was slump there on the couch and let the doctor do as he pleased.

Scout wriggled against Heavy's hand, a little frustrated with his partner's blissful paralysis. He bit at the big Russian's neck, tugging down the neck of his t-shirt to kiss at his collarbone. “Come on, big guy, little help here?”

Heavy's eyes fluttered open and his head rolled forward, his lips parted as soft gasps forced their way from him. He looked pleadingly to his young lover, then down to the doctor torturing him with overwhelming sensation, as if to illustrate the source of his immobility.

With a huff, Scout shouldered up against Heavy, leaning in to support himself as he slid off his pants, freeing himself from the Russian's shuddering grasp. He planted a kiss on Heavy's bottom lip before sliding to the floor between his legs.

Medic's eyes snapped open as the warm, wet heat of a tongue brushed against his own. Scout ran a long lick from the base to the head of their lover's cock, an appreciative, “Mmm,” rising in his throat. The doctor raised an eyebrow, inspiring the runner to continue with shorter, wide-tongued laps along the underside, rising up to the head opposite of Medic's ministrations. His eyes were trained on his Teutonic partner, as if to challenge him.

Enormous hands gripped the couch and Medic's backside tightly, shaking. Groans of rising volume issued forth from deep within their lover, powering through now-clenched teeth. Heavy's brow was furrowed, his legs tensing up. Where Medic had held him at the strange precipice for so long, harnessed to the edge of the cliff and unable to make the descent, Scout's tongue was beginning to fray the rope. The flat, wet licks the youngest assailed him with combined with the doctor's sweet, torturous teasing combined to melt him from within. Thought had long since ceased to be a concept to Heavy, rationale and logic simply sounds lost in the blood in his ears and the echoes of his own panting breaths. He was a creature of pure sensation, desperately trying to find purchase in the flood of his own hormones. His lovers' scents, their pheromones and musk, made him dizzy, their soft slurping and moaning rumbling through him like distant thunder. He was drowning in lust, his eyes wide, staring at the ceiling saw nothing as shadows and lights danced in his vision.

A smile pressed against Heavy's glans, Medic sensing his lover's imminent overflow. He nodded to Scout, then to Heavy, wordlessly ceding control to their young lover. Shifting down to the floor beside him, Medic took over the task of lapping near the base of Heavy's shaft, straying down to gently suck at his balls. Scout licked his lips and wrapped them around the head of their lover's cock, taking him into his mouth slowly, heat embracing the big man. His tongue fluttered along the underside as he began to bob quickly, loud slurps escaping with each upstroke. Quiet groans shuddered through Heavy's groin as his young lover vocalized his arousal around him, tasting the acidic saltiness of his precome.

Breaths caught in the big Russian's throat as he fought to keep from thrusting into Scout's mouth, the assault of sensation overwhelming him as those beautiful, wonderful mouths showered him with attention. Louder, and more erratic came his moans, until he was practically bellowing his pleasure to the heavens. One giant hand found its way to the top of Scout's head, the other gripped the couch for dear life. Pressure and emptiness all at once welled in his belly as he felt his pelvic floor clench, his balls tightening. His great muscles grew tense, quivering as heat flared within him. Then, he fell. The harness broken, the ground below him, Heavy left the precipice. His body went stiff, his hand held Scout firmly in place, and his choked roar heralded his release, bucking his hips upward, spilling into the younger man's mouth with force.

Scout gripped Heavy's thighs, trying to pull back as hard as he could to keep from being choked as his lover flooded his mouth with his seed. His eyes were wide, partly in panic, partly to watch the flushed, ecstatic face of the big Russian. Beside him, Medic pulled away, watching with great interest and lightly pawing at himself through his trousers. When Heavy's roar died, his breath slowed, Scout finally dared to move. He pulled back a little to find he was still held in place. Nudging the big man's palm a bit, he finally moved Heavy to relent, that giant hand sliding to his shoulder, giving a soft squeeze. Pulling slowly back, Scout gulped down the come in his mouth, giving Heavy a nice suck to clean him off before pulling away. Another swallow, and he licked his lips, gazing eagerly up at his disheveled partner. “So, how ya doin'?”

Heavy puffed out a breath and waved his hand non-commitally, unable to vocalize, let alone make sense. His exhausted smile said it all, however, and he tousled Scout's hair appreciatively.

Medic nipped lightly at Heavy's thigh then moved back onto the couch, curling up against his lover and snuggling him. Scout quickly followed suit on his other side. Looking forward, they noticed the screen before them was white, the film having ended some time ago, a soft static sound emanating from the speakers where the audio track had ended. A rhythmic clacking, smacking sound rattled from the projector, having finished its reel, still spinning.

“We seem to have missed the end of the movie,” Medic observed with some amusement, nuzzling into Heavy's belly.

“Mmm...da,” was all the big man could respond with.

“We could, like, start it again, if you guys want,” Scout offered, idly tugging at his own neglected erection.

“We could, we could,” the German sniffed between repeating the words, mimicking their lover, “but Heavy doesn't really enjoy horror movies, ja? Perhaps we could just give him a show for his own?”

Scout craned his neck to look at the doctor over their lover's soft, furry belly, a wicked grin on his face. “Want me to go grab some lube?”

“Ja,” Medic grinned.

Heavy's limp arms wrapped around his lovers tightly as Scout made to get up, pulling them close against him. “I am luckiest giant in world. You know this? Because is true.”

“Danke, mein kuschelbär.”

“Yeah, we know. We're awesome. Now let me up, I wanna see if I can make it to our room and back without getting caught,” Scout teased, yanking his shirt over his head.


End file.
